


get your loving on the low

by Mia_Zeklos



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Banned Together Bingo, Bickering, Clothed Sex, F/F, Femslash, Floor Sex, One Night Stands, Semi-Public Sex, This has 0 redeeming qualities, as in there's another person in the room but he's out cold so he doesn't count, definitely not enemies to lovers but? reluctant allies to lovers to probably future enemies?, don't curse kids. cursing is bad., let me say once again, this is my banned bingo square not general life advice, yeah that works I think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:22:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mia_Zeklos/pseuds/Mia_Zeklos
Summary: Cara had spent a grand total of five minutes in her presence before announcing that she'd go watch over Moff Gideon.Koska Reeves - another Mandalorian addition to their team - had shot up from her seat immediately. "I'm coming with you."Her sudden enthusiasm had been rewarded with two sets of dubious looks. "You want to sleep in the engine room?"(During the long, tense hours between leaving Moff Gideon's cruiser and arriving on Mandalore, unexpected temporary alliances form.)
Relationships: Cara Dune/Koska Reeves
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020





	get your loving on the low

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure I just created this ship tag, so obviously there is 0 target audience for it as of right now, but here it is nevertheless. I'm genuinely embarrassed to say what inspired this, so I'll refrain. Title taken from [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dMeaDstroig). Serves as a bingo square fill for the Banned Together Bingo, specifically for _"God Damn."_

One day, Cara thinks, this time – by some miracle – without an ounce of regret, she'll start keeping track of how she always ends up in these situations.

To be fair, it had been somewhat of a straight line this go around - there are nowhere near enough places to sleep on the _Slave I_ ; not with six people and one prisoner on board. Fett and Fennec Shand are in the cockpit doing whatever it is that they do when they're on their own, but no one had asked to spend the rest of the flight in their respective quarters, which had left them with all of one bunk, currently taken by Din, who they'd all wordlessly decided would be best left alone for now. Bo-Katan had settled down for the trip in the hallway where the seats were and that would have been an acceptable enough option for the rest of them too, if only her silent fuming over the Darksaber hadn't managed to choke the atmosphere with unbearable tension, and Cara had spent a grand total of five minutes in her presence before announcing that she'd go watch over Moff Gideon.

Koska Reeves - another Mandalorian addition to their team - had shot up from her seat immediately. "I'm coming with you."

Her sudden enthusiasm had been rewarded with two sets of dubious looks. "You want to sleep in the engine room?"

"We'll have to take turns sleeping," she'd reasoned, so earnest that Cara hadn't been able to help the suspicion that had filled her. "What if he wakes up?"

 _Fair enough_. "Suit yourself."

Of course, neither of them had actually managed to fall asleep. Moff Gideon's presence had made them even more jittery than they'd already been and finally, Cara had caved and broken out the only tranquilizer she had ever trust enough to bring it in her travel bag, offering it to her companion after taking a generous sip.

Koska had seemed stuck somewhere between amused and mildly critical. "Drinking on the job?"

"I'm not on the job," Cara had shrugged. "Can't claim to know what _your_ job is, but I don't think you're currently doing anything about it, either. We're still a long way away from Mandalore."

"Oh, I'm not in a hurry." The thought of _that_ had apparently been enough to make her follow suit and she'd downed half of the shimmery blue liquid still left in the bottle. "Think your friend is ever going to agree to fight her over the Darksaber?"

Ah. So they'd both been thinking about it, then. Perhaps that’s why she’d followed her here – she hadn’t been able to take her _own_ friend’s restlessness a moment longer either. "I think he's still willing to just give it to her and get it over with." Koska had snorted derisively, and it had occurred to Cara that it must have really felt unbelievable, after the years she'd spent in clearly power-hungry company. "I still don't know why she didn't take him up on that. We could have all lied about it in front of anyone else and said she'd won it fair and square. No one on this ship gives a shit anyway. Well," she had amended, pointing in the general direction of their prisoner with her boot, "apart from _him_ , but he's going to be in custody soon enough."

Now there had been a nice thought. There are few things she had missed from the last time she'd served the New Republic, but making a living out of tormenting Imperials had definitely been one of them. She had still been on edge from the day's events - even more so after the Jedi had shown up and taken the kid away - but the idea of giving him over to some official in Chandrila, claiming her reward and retreating back to the shadows had warmed her somewhat.

Koska had sized her up over yet another sip from her bottle before handing it back for her turn at it. "Money and revenge. Is that all there is to it for both of you? You're in good company."

"Oh, yes, we're too unrefined for," she'd paused, only to watch her drinking companion narrow her eyes at her, "what is it that drives the two of _you_? _Power_ and revenge? Big difference there."

"You're insufferable."

"You're pretentious."

Now, _that's_ an easier trail to follow. It only makes sense - the majority of the partners Cara had ever had had begun as someone she'd antagonised - and vice versa - so when, a little time and a lot of alcohol later, one of them had finally realised that if they couldn't find anyone to fight, they might as well try get the tension out in a different way, it had felt like a perfectly logical conclusion to an already hectic day.

Koska Reeves, Cara soon discovers, kisses with the same determined ferocity that she'd displayed while they'd been taking over Moff Gideon's cruiser, only she's much _louder_ about it - her arm guards clank on the floor when she unclasps them while they both do their best to get to bare skin in record time, and she gasps into her mouth when Cara finally manages to sneak a hand into the lower half of her armour. It's a tight fit, but it _works_ and she bites down on Koska's lower lip in warning when the first, superficial swipe of her fingers already earns her a moan.

"Be _quiet_ ," she hisses, her own breath hitching when the Mandalorian reaches back to loosen the grip of the beskar around her body somewhat and she can press her hand even lower, further emboldened by the reaction she'd got. She can feel the same frantic heat rise up in her, too, but it's nothing compared to how startlingly _wet_ Koska already is under her teasing touch. She chances a look at their prisoner on the other side of the engine. Nothing for now, but, "What if he wakes up?"

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" The smile she gets in return is rich with temptation and Cara shudders as the image hits her, too. She curls her index finger in a hook back towards herself in retaliation and Koska's eyes flutter shut. "You shouldn't, but you'd like that. I know _I_ would."

The fantasy alone is stuck somewhere between a forbidden thrill and outright disgust, along with the remnants of deep-drilled soldier's guilt of disregarding the threat of a high-ranking Imperial nearby, and Cara lets it all wash over her. In lieu of a response, she doubles her efforts, thumb flicking over her clit while her fingers sift through the wet folds with movements too random to get her anywhere quickly _or_ efficiently. She grins victoriously when Koska arches up with a frustrated whine and the movement gives her enough space to let her free hand push off what little remainder of beskar had still covered her.

"God _damn_ it," the Mandalorian snarls in response, seemingly angrier at being caught off guard than she is at being undressed, lifting herself up enough to be able to get at Cara's mouth, one hand sinking into her hair and curling into a fist while the other roughly grasps at Cara's top, pulling the stiff fabric up until she can get it over her head and toss it on the floor. "You fuck the way you fight, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Only every time." It's always been a compliment; now, from what she can tell, is no exception. "Unrefined, remember?"

"Shut up, Dune— Oh!" Wrapped up as they are in one another, Koska's legs splayed on the outside of her own, Cara can feel every minute reaction of her body; every twitch of her thighs as she pushes her closer and closer to the edge. It's more gratifying than she has words for, especially as she manages to keep herself relatively composed.

"Don't think I'm the mouthy one here, _Reeves_."

Her gloating is short-lived - Koska's hand, freed from the prison of their collective gear, crawls up Cara's abdomen, undeterred by the kiss she attempts to initiate as a form of distraction. She pulls away abruptly - quickly enough to bury her own whimper in her partner's neck lest someone actually _hears_ \- just as she feels that same hand wander up her chest, alternating between idly caressing the sides of her breasts and rolling their peaks between two fingers with such unhurried interest that it makes her want to _scream_. It's an easy charade to look past - Koska's practically thrusting back into her hand now, another one of those small gasps gracing Cara's ears on every downstroke, and Cara mouths at her throat, grazing her teeth over the point where her pulse is fluttering madly under her touch. It might leave a mark. She hopes it does.

"I'll show you mouthy." The Mandalorian's free hand curls around her forearm, spurring her on, as if she needs any encouragement at all, the other still haphazardly pawing at her chest, so rough and enthusiastic that between that and the way she's nearly riding her, desperately seeking the stimulation offered by both Cara's hand and the thigh she's pressing up against her, it's nearly enough to get _her_ there, too. The next threat - promise, more like - is almost a sob. "I'll show you mouthy—"

Cara bites her response into the base of her throat, dazed grin pressed into reddening skin. _A mark, definitely_. "You better."

~.~

Cara's body still feels hazy and weightless, residual aftershocks chasing lazily one after another through her, when she realises they'd come out of lightspeed.

"Oh, fuck." She jostles her companion when she sits up - even if there's no love lost between them, she's still comfortable than the floor, Cara supposes, and Koska had rest her head on her chest for the uncharacteristically quiet five minutes they'd just spent basking in the afterglow - and gets a questioning sound in response. "We're here."

"What?" The Mandalorian sits up, rubbing the incoming sleep away from her eyes. Cara can't help but sympathise, even if the dawning light through the visor in the hallway outside the engine room is enough to keep her awake for now. " _Oh_. Mandalore."

"Looks like it." Pulling her gear back on, Cara checks on their prisoner - still out - and his restraints - still in place - and tries to brace herself for what's to come while watching Koska fish around for her beskar around the half-lit room. "Just so you know," she says eventually, adrenaline starting to rush right back in despite her best efforts to keep calm until further development, "your rules don't matter to me. If whatever fight they have to orchestrate for this stupid planet goes sour, I won't hesitate to shoot her."

"I'd expect nothing else." Well, of course not. They'd already seen most of the worse parts of each other; what's one more, for people they love? "Likewise, Marshall."

Both of their smiles are all teeth, now, the familiarity of it oddly comforting, and Cara marches out towards the cockpit, uncertainty temporarily held at bay. It feels _good_ ; being this easily understood, for once.


End file.
